


Booty Call

by Duckay, Neffectual



Series: Drunk Dial [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Drinking, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Oral Sex, Smoking, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 00:43:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6730381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckay/pseuds/Duckay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neffectual/pseuds/Neffectual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Drunk Dial. After Dean and Roman end up in bed together, Dean assumes they'll never really see each other again. He's more or less okay with that, until Roman sees him with Seth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booty Call

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr! Proceduralbob.tumblr.com
> 
> Neffectual said I should write a sequel to Drunk Dial exploring Dean's relationship with Seth. I said she should do it instead. In the end, this happened.

When Dean opened his eyes again, it was to the insistent buzzing of his phone, where he’d left it, settled on Roman’s chest. He carelessly dragged it closer to his face - Seth again. He groaned, and put a hand over his eyes.

“Should probably think about answering those,” Roman rumbled, without moving or opening his eyes. “Not important seems pretty keen on getting to talk to you.”

Dean made a noise somewhere between ‘fuck off’ and ‘I guess so’ before wriggling himself free of Roman’s arm and sitting up. He switched his phone to silent, instead of vibrate, only fumbling the button twice, before trying to flop back down and discovering his comfy pillow of Roman had moved.

“Man, c’mon, I was sleeping,” Dean whined, as Roman’s arm levered him back upright. “I don’t have to be anywhere, your bed’s comfy, the hangover’s wearing off…”

Roman laughed, and Dean idly noted it was a pretty pleasant sound when he was more awake. He pulled himself upright reluctantly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand and using the other to lazily adjust himself. There was something to be said for waking up nude with a near-stranger, and one of the things to be said was that said stranger had a really nice dick. Shame he seemed to be pretty keen on getting Dean out of his bed before they could try for a round two.

“Some of us like passing our classes,” Roman said, sounding amused as he stood up, giving Dean a good look at an ass he was going to remember for weeks if he could just get his tired eyes to focus. He slapped it gently, anyway, and took note of the little noise that Roman made in response; a not exactly disinterested noise, either. He’d remember that, too, when he was feeling like leaving little bites on Seth’s hips, or clawed marks on his back - sure, sometimes he liked to get fucked, but there were always moments where the opposite was entirely preferable. He let himself idly think about what it would take to get someone like Roman on his back for him, until his musings were cut off by his jeans slapping him in the face.

“Get dressed,” Roman purred, and Dean could hear a million promises in just those two words, but still made sure to grumble as he searched for his underwear in vain, then shrugged and gave up. Fuck it, Roman could keep them and sniff them, or jerk off into them, or whatever he fucking wanted, Dean wasn’t going to spend the next twenty minutes searching for boxers when he didn’t even remember which pair they’d been. He found his shirt tangled up with another - Roman’s? -  by the bedroom door, and concluded they’d both been pretty into getting them off when they first got inside. Dean assumed he’d passed out at some point, but whatever, he’d repaid the favour, hadn’t he?

He patted his pockets but came up empty, just a lighter and some change that had somehow miraculously failed to spill out across Roman’s floor. Fuck. Well, at least he knew what he was doing with some of the rest of his day. He realised his throat was gritty and unpleasant just as he turned, slamming into Roman’s outstretched hand and the plastic cup of water he was holding. The liquid jostled, but mostly didn’t spill, aside from a few spots on Dean’s jeans that were now 80% cleaner than the rest of them, he thought as he took the cup and gulped gratefully.

“If I’d known you were still gonna be this clumsy, I’d’ve tried to save the bottle,” Roman said, wickedly, and Dean’s mouthful of water very nearly ended up all over the opposite wall. He swallowed carefully, lips pursed to keep from laughing and dribbling it all down his chin - there were bad first impressions, and then there was spit-taking water all over someone.

“Ha fucking ha,” he managed, when he’d persuaded the liquid to stay down, and his voice didn’t sound like he’d been blowing sandpaper dicks all night. He elbowed Roman, not hard, but the way he’d elbow Seth when he was being a prissy little shit, and enjoyed the noise Roman made, all offended and grumpy. Shit felt easy, not like half the one-night stands he’d pulled, all stuttered apologies and offers to see each other again. Roman hadn’t asked, and Dean hadn’t suggested it, and that was fucking fine with him. Still, once Roman had finally pulled on a shirt, Dean realised what was happening.

“Got everything?” Roman asked easily, pausing by the door for a moment and looking back at Dean.

“Are you actually about to walk me home?” Dean quirked an eyebrow and nearly choked on his own tongue when Roman responded with the same raised eyebrow back.

“I mean, I can kick you down the stairs and hope you know where you live, if you want,” Roman said, mouth making a smug little grin that made Dean want to press him back against the door and kiss him again, so he did. Roman made a surprised little noise, but the kiss was soft and easy, Roman’s hands easily curling around his waist and pulling him closer. “Fuck, your waist is tiny.” Roman added, as they broke apart. Dean had never really thought about the size of his waist, and Seth was narrower than him anyway, and he wasn't defensive about it at all as he tripped down the dorm stairs after Roman, vehemently arguing the whole time. Roman shut him up with another of those slow, languorous kisses at the bottom of the stairs, before opening the heavy security door and ushering him outside.

Dean immediately wanted to find the sun and shut it off, and made displeased noises to that effect as Roman went to set off across campus in the wrong direction.

“No man, I'm over at Taylor,” he said, grabbing Roman by the hand and tugging him back, the bigger man going easily, and not letting go of his hand, large fingers curling around his smaller ones. “We go this way.”

“I don’t say this often,” Roman said carefully, looking at Dean curiously, which made Dean feel like he was under a microscope in a lab class, “but are you sure? You were coming from there when you bumped into me.”

Dean tripped over his own foot and barely caught himself before he hit the ground, Roman’s strong hand on his elbow pulling him upright. He could feel his cheeks turning red as he scowled to himself, trying to ignore the amused tilt to Roman’s lips. He shrugged his answer, rather than respond and get himself into more trouble, but it was hard to be mad when Roman shortened his step to walk in sync with him, just close enough that their hands brushed every so often, and their shoulders bumped together. So what if he’d wandered right past his dorm in a drunken stupor, it had led him to Roman, and that was a win in his book; not as familiar as Seth’s body, but none the worse for the strangeness and newness. Besides, it wasn’t the first time Dean had ended up with a stranger’s dick down his throat, and at least he’d traded names with Roman first - that was practically a relationship when it came to Dean’s nightly conquests.

It seemed to take a lot less time to get to his dorm than it had most nights he’d staggered drunkenly across campus, with Roman’s warmth up against him and the sun beating down on them. Dean only patted his pockets three times, each time muttering a curse as he remembered he was out, and not answering Roman’s quizzical look, but before he knew it they were standing in front of his dorm, and Roman was watching him awkwardly avoid eye contact. Fuck, that was why he smoked, to give him something to do with his fucking hands that wasn’t toying with the fraying threads on the pocket of his jeans.

Roman opened his mouth to say something, and Dean decided he wasn’t going to put up with that crap, nudging Roman back against the brickwork and kissing him soundly. Roman growled a little, something Dean had to quietly wish he’d brought out in bed, but still, there was always another time, and reversed their positions so that it was Dean’s back rubbing against the masonry, the feeling of the rough bricks catching on the snarls in his hair too good to ignore. Roman kissed him like they weren’t alone in a room not that long ago, like they were about to go home and fuck on every surface they could find - in a dorm that was pretty limited to the desk, the bed, and the floor, but Dean had his imagination - and for a fleeting second, Dean thought about inviting him up as Roman pressed two fingers down on the bite mark decorating Dean’s neck.

The noise Dean heard himself make was probably illegal, but he didn’t care, just rocked his hips up a little, feeling Roman’s mouth curve against his before he pulled back.

“I’ll see you,” Dean said, hurriedly, before he could say something else, something stupid. He hurried inside the building without looking back, but thought he heard Roman laugh as he caught his jacket sleeve on the door handle and had to back up a bit. He flipped him off without looking, and heard the laughter get louder, before the door closed behind him and cut off the sound.

* * *

 

As Dean pushed the dorm room door open, he braced himself a little for Seth’s reaction. The number of calls and texts he had ignored from his roommate was approaching emergency levels, and while he wasn’t exactly sure if Seth would be worried, he’d probably be furious that he’d been ignored for nothing approaching a good reason.

Instead, Dean saw Seth swivel around in his desk chair eagerly as he heard the door open. There was a certain giddiness in his eyes, like he’d just heard a great joke and was looking for an opportunity to pass it on.

“Well, look at you.”

Obediently, Dean looked down at himself. He didn’t think he looked any more dishevelled than usual, not that it was an easy task to look worse than that. There was nothing about him that screamed ‘walk of shame’ apart from the fact that he knew Seth had been expecting him home the previous night.

“What?” He asked, finally, flopping down on his bed and reaching out to pat Seth’s knee absently with one hand. Seth nodded towards the window.

“What, he didn’t want to come inside with you? Shit, where did you find him?” Realization dawned.

“Long story,” Dean deflected, his eyes drifting shut almost against his will. Everything was starting to catch up on him - the hangover, the lack of sleep, the energy expended that morning, the lack of any real food or at least caffeine. It hadn’t been so bad when he was with Roman, but laying down had brought everything back quickly.

After a short time he realized that Seth hadn’t said anything further, which was wildly out of character. He cracked one eye open and jerked back like he was trying to crawl through the mattress shoulder-blades first, having found himself nose-to-overlarge nose with Seth.

“Would you kindly fuck off?” he demanded, once his heart rate had returned to normal, hitting at Seth with his pillow. “I don’t want you all in my face.”

Instead of fucking off as instructed, Seth flopped onto the tiny bed beside Dean, wriggling up to him. Once it became a choice between moving over to give Seth room, or accept the fact that he had someone else inside his shirt with him, Dean begrudgingly shuffled over against the wall, swinging one arm over the other man’s body to conserve space.

“I was worried about you,” Seth admitted, shrugging his shoulders lightly. “I mean, I expected you to walk home early like, ‘Seeeth, I need some --’” Dean fumbled with the pillow to smack him with it again, cutting the whiny impersonation short. “But look,” he continued smoothly, “you clearly found somewhere else for that. Leaving me high and dry, not that I’m complaining.”

The arm stretched across Seth’s shoulders tightened a little, and Dean nuzzled his face into Seth’s neck. It was an absent-minded action, mostly because it was Seth, and because he was in Dean’s space anyway. Seth hummed softly, petting the top of Dean’s head. Gradually, the fingertips of that hand lowered to a point on Dean’s throat, tracing a shape on the bruised flesh.

“He got you good, didn’t he?”

Dean made an irritated sort of noise and made as though to push Seth to the floor. It was a gentle, affectionate sort of push, though he wouldn’t have used quite those words if asked to describe it, and Seth just pushed his shoulder back against him with a cheeky grin.

“I mean it, did you guys even fuck or was he trying to -”

He was cut off again, this time by Dean tilting his head up and kissing him. It was hard and primarily designed to make him stop talking for a second, but gradually muscle memory took over and it became slower, softer. A hand crept up to entwine with the blond streak in Seth’s hair as he pulled back, slightly. Seth looked a little surprised, but not uninterested, and he closed the gap between them again without another word. Soft, affectionate kisses gave way to heat, and when Seth mumbled something not quite intelligible about wanting more, Dean was only too happy to oblige.

Soon Dean was pinning the smaller man beneath him, trailing kisses down his jaw, then throat, as both hands fumbled with Seth’s jeans. Once he’d managed to pull them down to his thighs, Dean slid to the floor on his knees, hands settling on either side of Seth’s waist, which was a lot smaller than his, thank you very much, as he kissed at his stomach, hip bones, inner thigh. One of Seth’s hands settled on the back of his head and tried to gently guide his mouth towards his erection. For a moment, Dean play-acted like he didn’t know what Seth was after, resolutely kissing and licking in turn the dip of Seth’s hipbone until he felt the slight sting of Seth pulling at his hair in frustration and turned his attention, finally, to his cock.

As he swirled his tongue around the head, Dean rather expected that Seth would stay shut up a little while longer or at least keep any talking to requests or compliments. He rolled his eyes when he heard, instead, Seth speak up.

“You never did tell me where you found him.”

Rather than answer, he took Seth deeper into his mouth, scraping his nails from Seth’s stomach to his thighs. He breathed steadily through his nose as he rocked his head back and forth, until he felt the tip of Seth’s cock brush the back of his throat, digging his fingertips harder into Seth’s thighs. That was usually a winning move with Seth, but in addition to the soft moan he also heard Seth muttering.

“Is he a student here too?”

That was also resolutely ignored. Dean hollowed his cheeks to suck at Seth harder, then pulled back a little to use his tongue more. He heard Seth’s breath hitch, felt the fingers tug at his hair again, and was beginning to take that as a strong sign when he heard, “Did you guys -”

He pulled back from Seth’s cock irritably, ignoring the string of saliva still connecting it to his mouth.

“Do you even know what a blowjob is, Seth?!” Seth moaned softly, pulling Dean’s head forward again by the hair, but he stayed resolute. “You have to fucking shut up. I can’t gossip and suck dick at the same time.”

This earned a sort of pitiful whine and a nod, along with another, not particularly gentle, tug forward again. This time, Dean obliged, though with a slightly exasperated huff.

Seth remained mercifully silent on the gossip front as Dean got back to work, though it felt as though he had redirected all of that interest into fucking Dean’s face. Or maybe he just wanted to get it over with more quickly, to get back to the gossip faster. Both hands, now, buried themselves in Dean’s hair, and his hips thrust up eagerly into his mouth. Dean had to tap him on the thigh, just once, to get him to slow down a little, which earned him a slightly guilty apology.

A hard suck pulled a particularly ragged moan from Seth, and Dean withdrew his head again, instead sliding one hand over the spit-slick cock a few times to finish him off. Seth gave him a look, and made a motion towards Dean like he was offering to return the favour, but Dean waved him off. It wasn't particularly magnanimous; he was mostly tired, and particularly didn't really feel like explaining that he'd left his underwear behind.

Once they were both cleaned up, Seth demanded another cuddle because of course he did, that was always what Seth did. They piled again into Dean’s too-small bed, arms wrapped loosely around each other and Seth’s head resting against Dean’s chest. After a few minutes, Dean broke the silence.

“I can’t believe you sometimes.”

Seth swatted at him, slightly affronted. “What does that mean?”

“‘Is he a student here too’, how did you expect me to respond? Fucking morse code?”

He felt, rather than saw, Seth shrug slightly in response to that. “Well, I tell you what, I’m definitely coming with you next time if that’s the calibre of guy you find.”

* * *

 

‘Next time’ occurred only a week later, after Dean had spent several hours working on a paper and had eventually declared that his brain had melted out his ears and he needed alcohol to help it reform. Seth hadn’t been particularly interested at first, but Dean reminded him about their conversation, Seth’s desire to find a gorgeous mystery man of his very own, and the fact that last time Seth had abandoned him to sleep in a gutter and it was only by chance that he had been rescued by a brave knight in shining armour and a messy bun instead. Eventually Seth agreed to come along, just to get Dean to shut up.

The club was exactly as Dean remembered. Loud, obnoxious, crammed with people he wasn’t particularly interested in talking to. The addition of Seth was a vast improvement because it meant that there was less obligation to make conversation with cigarette-stealing sorority girls. Not to mention, Seth got very affectionate after even only a few drinks, and Dean was honestly always on board with having a gorgeous guy groping at him in a public place. Even if it was Seth and he was sort of a pain in the ass.

Partway through the night, Dean had motioned to Seth that he was going out for a smoke, and Seth followed along without saying anything. As Dean lit up, Seth gestured to him to pass him the pack.

“You don’t even smoke,” Dean said, like Seth would be unaware of that, but threw the pack and lighter at him anyway. Seth lit up one with inexperienced hands, before passing them back.

“If I’m going to be kissing you later, we might as well both taste like shit.”

There was no way to respond to that except laughter. Dean shook his head as he watched Seth inhale and choke just slightly, tilting his head away like that was going to hide it. Minutes later they had both stubbed out their butts underfoot (though Dean couldn't help but notice that Seth hadn't even finished his), and Dean was about to suggest going back inside for another round when he felt the mess of hair press up against his neck and Seth’s arms encircle him.

He pressed his lips softly to the top of Seth’s head, just as he felt one of Seth’s hands slide down his back and into the back pocket of his jeans. So, of course, there was nothing to do but tilt Seth’s head up from his shoulder and kiss him, leaning him into the wall. He tasted of cigarette smoke and something fruity, which was weird, but also kind of enticing. When they parted for breath, Seth made a face.

“It didn’t help. You’re still awful.”

He didn’t pull away, though, or show any sign of not being interested despite that, so Dean laughed at that, too. Just as he was about to lean in for another, something struck him out of the corner of his eye. It would have been hard to mistake that body anywhere, and Dean’s heart started beating a little faster just from the sight of him.

“Hi, Roman,” he called out, motioning with a tilt of his head for him to come over.

Roman looked a little taken aback, and Dean couldn’t quite figure out why, but he wandered over anyway. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and just looked a little confused and expectant. Then Seth slid his hand out of Dean’s back pocket, and realization dawned. He stepped away from the wall, clearing his throat quietly. He wasn’t quite sure what else to say, because ‘sorry’ didn’t seem quite appropriate, but something was clearly expected from him. What to say when your enormous crush and recent one night stand walks over while you’re kissing your roommate against a wall wasn’t something he could ever remember being taught, and that seemed like an enormous gap in his education.

Seth saved the day, or at least the minute, by breaking the silence, sticking his hand out in greeting.

“Roman, was it? Seth.”

The larger man took his hand and shook it, mumbling, “Nice to meet you,” in that pleasant, deep voice of his. He was looking between Dean and Seth now, and Dean could feel himself going red under that gaze. He could see the wheels turning, the conclusions that were no doubt being jumped to.

“My roommate,” Dean clarified, though it felt a little pathetic under the circumstances. “Seth, this is -”

“The guy you’ve been jerking off to for the past week,” Seth supplied, and oh god, Dean was actually going to murder him as soon as there were no witnesses around. He shot him a look, trying to make the message ‘I know where you sleep’ as plain as possible in his eyes, but Seth just grinned back at him.

To Dean’s surprise, and immense relief, Roman looked remarkably unruffled by that piece of information. In fact, the knowledge that Seth obviously knew what had happened and wasn’t jealous or heartbroken seemed to put him at ease. Dean had a sneaking suspicion, actually, that Roman was checking Seth out, and that irritated him slightly, but he didn’t exactly have a leg to stand on in that regard. He opened his mouth to say something, probably something really clever and sexy, but next thing he knew Seth’s hand was on his lower back pushing him forward and Roman was leaning in…

It was pretty nice to have a wingman like Seth, sometimes.

The kiss was everything he remembered from that morning in Roman’s room; soft, gentle, almost teasing. His hand found the back of Roman’s neck and he pressed forward a little more insistently, sucking at his lower lip and nipping at it gently with his teeth, trying to encourage him to treat him the same. Roman pulled back far too soon for Dean's liking, but his lips immediately pressed to Dean’s jaw, just below his ear, almost apologetically.

“I kinda have to go,” he murmured, just low enough for Dean to hear. “But you seem to know how to find me.”

With that, he was gone. Dean leaned against the wall, a little dizzy in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol.

But then, Seth was there, nuzzling into his neck again. That was the _best_ thing about a wingman like Seth.

“Come on,” Dean murmured, fumbling in his pocket for the cigarette packet again. “Let's head home.” His eyes were still following where Roman had gone, even while one arm slung around Seth’s shoulders and pulled him a little closer.

Seth gave a disapproving sort of glare to the cigarette packet, but he slipped his hand into Dean's back pocket again anyway.

* * *

 

The door had only just closed behind them when Dean pressed Seth against it, kissing him hard, his hands roaming to any part of his body that he could reach. Seth gasped out something about Dean being too impatient in between frantically snatched kisses, but by the time he was able to finish the sentence, he’d already managed to unzip Dean’s jeans and was in the process of pulling them off.

Given the evening they’d had, Dean was rather under the impression that waiting until they were at least back in their room constituted award-winning self-control and a newfound respect for college policies, but he didn’t say anything.

There was nothing slow or intimate about it. Without taking their hands off each other for any longer than necessary, they managed to stumble to a bed, pieces of clothing strewn across the floor in their path - clothes which, if Dean had anything to say about it, Seth was going to have to tidy up later. But then, he was on his back with Seth straddling his hips and kissing him, so the cleaning rota could be sorted out another time.

Dean’s hands slid to Seth’s waist, his fingers digging in slightly to the flesh there, before moving further down to his hips. As he did so, he rolled onto his side, bringing Seth with him so they were laying together face-to-face, pressed close on the small bed. One hand reached still further down to Seth’s hard cock, just as he felt Seth do the same for him. They fell into rhythm together, matching pace, as Seth laid a trail of soft bites down Dean’s throat to his collarbone, then back up again. As he hit a particularly sensitive spot that felt like it sent an electric charge through Dean’s whole body, Dean raised his other hand to Seth’s hair, tangling his fingers in a handful, and pulled at it sharply, earning himself an even harder bite in the same spot.

“Again,” he managed to gasp out, fingers of one hand pulling at Seth’s hair again, as his hips jerked forward into the other man’s touch and his strokes at Seth’s cock became a little sloppier. Another bite didn’t come right away, and Dean was about to repeat himself, thinking he hadn’t been heard, when Seth’s teeth raked against the flesh again and dug in, sending a lightning bolt of pain and pleasure and sensation through him again, and he spilled on Seth’s hand with a groan he couldn’t hold back.

Seth pulled back, looking awfully damn pleased with himself, his eyes falling shut as he enjoyed the now almost careless strokes as Dean struggled to keep his body cooperating long enough to bring Seth to completion as well. It didn’t take long, and he fumbled for the paper towel roll to clean up before he forgot and it became too difficult.

They had cuddled, briefly, after that, but Dean had strict rules about Seth falling asleep in his bed and in any case he was still feeling fairly keyed up. Fucking around with Seth could only do so much, and wasn’t always a real replacement for the other vices he enjoyed when things got too hard to think about. So, he’d unearthed a half bottle of something left stashed under his bed from some occasion he couldn’t remember, and an hour later he was hanging halfway out the open window with a cigarette dangling from his fingers, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

“Should go find Roman,” he said, mostly to himself, but he glanced over at Seth anyway. “He's probably finished whatever - whatever he was doing now.” Seth looked up, but didn’t say anything to that. Dean continued on, his gaze drifting back out the window. “It’s - it’s like - I don’t even know what it’s like. But he’s hot. And I miss him.”

“Yeah, he’s hot,” Seth replied absentmindedly, looking back down at the laptop screen in front of him, and Dean glanced back over at him with a slightly suspicious expression. There was nothing really to say to that, though, or at least nothing that didn’t make Dean feel a little bit like a hypocrite, so they just dropped back into silence. Eventually, Dean stubbed his cigarette butt out on the windowsill and dropped it outside.

“I’m going to go find him,” he announced, stumbling across the room and grabbing at piles of clothes for his jacket. “Can’t be too hard to find. Keep finding him, don’t I?” He kicked over a pile of what he was fairly sure was Seth’s apparently never-ending collection of skinny jeans, toeing through it for some sign of leather before moving on to a different pile.

Seth looked up at him, and seemed faintly amused, but didn’t actually contribute anything until Dean decided that he didn’t actually need to be wearing a jacket after all and reached for the door, at which point he called out.

“Hey, Deano?”

Dean’s head snapped up just in time to try to catch his cellphone as it flew across the room, fumble it, and watch it land in the pile of laundry at his feet. Through Seth’s laughter, he bent down to pick it up, his brow creasing in confusion. He read the words on the screen, then read them again. When they still didn’t make sense a third time, he looked up at Seth again quizzically. Seth looked expectant, then exasperated.

Right there, under “ _relax im basically home_ ”, was:

_hey its dean you want to come hang out when your done_

_Sure, man. Taylor, right?_

_Will your roommate be there?_

 

“I can stay or go,” Seth volunteered, though he was leaning forward eagerly as he spoke. “I can crash with Marek and Jimmy, if you want me to clear out.”

“Did you send that?” Dean demanded in turn, not addressing Seth’s comments, gesturing wildly with the phone.

Seth rolled his eyes and flopped backwards onto the bed.

“No, man, fucking fairies did it. Look, sit your ass back down.”

There was more to say to that, probably, but Dean wandered back from the door to the foot of his bed and obediently sat his ass back down. His messages were still open on his phone, and he pecked out a reply thoughtfully, though didn't hit send.

“Maybe he’ll want you to clear out.”

The sound of Seth’s laptop shutting made Dean look up. Seth was giving him a look like he thought Dean was the dumbest person he'd ever met. It wasn't an unfamiliar look.

“He said he was coming before asking if I was here or not. You do the math.” Then, he winked. “You always say you want to spend more time with me, don't you?”

Dean gave this due consideration. “We spend, like, every waking minute together.”

“ _A_ _lmost_ every waking minute,” Seth corrected, with a little pout. Visions of himself trying to coax Seth out to a club, or for food, or for a walk, danced through Dean’s mind, and he knew Seth knew it from the way he smirked, but it wasn't like he would ever stoop so low as to acknowledge it. So he liked time with Seth; it was convenient when your best friend slash roomie was also pretty much down to fuck whenever.

After some more thought, he amended the reply, then hit send.

_Yeah, taylor. hes here but can make him clear out if u want_

Seth was making beckoning hands towards his phone, but Dean kept it away from him until he saw the replies start to come in.

Then the phone was abandoned on the floor as Dean started scrambling to shove the piles of clothes under the bed, stack textbooks and notes in neater piles, generally try to make the dorm room look a little less like a trash heap. He only looked up when he heard Seth laugh, a sort of mocking, nasal sound.

A book soared over Seth’s shoulder where he was now sitting on the floor with Dean’s phone.

“Watch it, asshole,” he sneered. “That nearly fucking hit me.”

“Good,” Dean retorted, though he did walk across to grab the book and put it away, faintly abashed. “It was meant to. Stop looking at my phone.”

Seth grinned at him widely, tossing the phone back at him as soon as his hands were free. Dean managed to catch it that time, albeit awkwardly.

“He _said_ he'd be about 20 minutes. And here you are, running around like there's a room inspection. Which is more than you did last room inspection, by the way. Don't think I’ve forgotten.”

Alright, so it wouldn't be the end of the world if he could calm down a little. So it was a dorm room. There were dirty clothes around. That happened, and Roman probably cared a lot less than the poor soul who had caught them in the midst of some passionate not-so-alone time last room inspection.

“That was your fucking fault,” Dean reminded him, possibly not entirely honestly, with a bit of a scowl. That memory, interesting as it was, had brought something else to mind, and he flapped a disapproving hand at Seth’s computer nook. “Hide your shit, though.”

Seth’s gaze followed Dean’s hand to his computer nook, and specifically the offending items: the lubricant, the scrunched up, sticky paper towels, the condoms. The laugh that followed was even more mocking, and made Dean grind his teeth and reconsider the likely consequences of Seth turning up missing in the near future. When Seth made no move to do anything about it, Dean added, “I just don't want him thinking we were fucking right before he got here, okay?”

That did provoke a reaction, at least. Seth got up, planting a hand on each of Dean’s shoulders.

“Dean, we were.” Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Seth kept talking over the top of him. “Okay, we were messing around. But he knows that already. He already saw us together at the club. And he’ll probably be happy that we’ve got them, why do you think he’s coming over? Get your shit together, and I don't mean the mess. Sober up. Drink some water, go for a run. Fuck.” He made his point, lifting one hand from Dean’s shoulder and slapping him on the forehead. Not hard, but hard enough.

When Roman arrived twenty-five minutes later, Dean had at least tried to take Seth’s advice. Or, at least, had drunk the biggest bottle of water he could unearth and perched himself at the open window again exhaling cigarette smoke into the cold night air, which was kind of like going for a run.

“You’re prepared,” Roman commented as he surveyed their dorm room with a bit of a mean twinkle in his eye, and Dean was ready to shoot Seth a filthy look for not having the decency to hide the condoms until they'd be useful, until he realized that Roman was looking at the empty water bottle under the windowsill. That just made him choke on his own saliva, while Roman burst into laughter. Seth was laughing too, though Dean couldn't remember if he'd actually told him about the water bottle thing, or if he was just having a general laugh about Dean choking.

Once Dean could breathe again, he pulled Roman in close for a kiss. He expected something similar to how they had kissed before, all gentle and slow, so was entirely unprepared for the onslaught that enveloped him. It was hard and fierce and even slightly aggressive, and he was putting those big, strong arms of his to awfully good use, holding Dean in place. There was really nothing to be done except let himself be kissed, and that was more than okay with him.

As they separated, Dean caught Seth’s eye and saw the discreet thumbs up. He wasn't capable of doing much but just sort of smiling stupidly back at him.

Still, he had been half-hard before, just knowing Roman was on his way, and that kiss just made everything a little more pressing. A part of him really just wanted to throw Roman down and let things progress however they happened to progress. That was probably a bad idea, for a number of reasons. One, he was pretty sure that Roman was both too big and too stubborn to be just thrown down, no matter how many fantasies he had of doing that. Two, there were three of them in the room, and he had no idea how they were going to do anything, but now that he had the idea in his head, he desperately needed to figure it out.

The matter of how to broach that point was still beyond him, though, so he let Roman pull him in for another kiss in the meantime. This time, he felt himself pulled down as Roman sat on the foot of his bed, tugging Dean with him, leaving Dean straddling his lap. Roman had that bun again, that stupid messy bun that Dean didn’t know if he liked or not, so he buried his fingers in it, tugging it loose from the hair tie, running his fingers from scalp to the ends, working out any knots in his path as he did so.

Dean heard a soft sound coming from the other side of the room, and the memory of Seth, rather than any need to breathe, was what pulled him back. He glanced over his shoulder at Seth, then back at Roman, hoping his gaze said what he wasn’t sure he could put into words. And bless Seth for being so forward, because before he had to find a way to articulate his questions, Seth was there at his shoulder, and he pushed up into the hand that was now running through his hair. That didn't really provide satisfactory answers, but it was a step in the right direction.

There was only so much consideration he could give Seth, though, because Roman had apparently decided that if Dean wasn't kissing him back, he'd make himself useful in other ways. Those full lips he so appreciated glided over his throat, and a pair of strong hands found their way to his ass. Dean shifted his weight a little, then again as he felt Roman’s cock twitch under him, scratching at the other man’s scalp just lightly. This earned a soft groan, and Roman whispered against his neck.

“I can't wait to be inside this ass.”

Dean bit back a small smile.

“Funny that you should say that. I've been dreaming of yours all week.”

He was halfway joking when he said it; it wasn't untrue, but he wouldn't have been shocked to find out that Roman was one of those guys who was a little defensive about his ass. And since he would be pretty satisfied either way, he was happy to indulge a little defensiveness, though not without a bit of teasing first. When he leaned back a little to meet Roman’s eye, that was what he expected to see. Not genuine surprise that Dean would say that.

After a moment of that confused and surprised silence, Dean prompted him.

“I accidentally say something stupid?”

“N - I mean, no,” Roman was actually stammering a little, which was a lot more defensive than Dean had expected, and was sort of adorable. He filed that under ‘things to remember for later’, even while he looked at the other man expectantly, waiting for more. “I just… Well, to be honest, I mean…”

The fingers of one hand raised from where they had still been cupping Dean’s ass to a point on his throat, where he had to guess from the feel of it Seth had been careless enough to leave a mark. He had to actively work to hold back the roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, ‘cause I'm the only guy in the world who likes to give and take it rough.” Alright, so he couldn't quite hold it all back.

“Well, I mean, and you…” Roman glanced down as though unsure of how to complete the thought. Dean was only just barely capable of stifling the groan of disbelief.

“I said I want to top, not that I'm an _asshole_. Fuck.”

“That's just his little power trip,” Seth piped up in explanation from behind him, and Dean would have turned to elbow or slap at him for that remark if he hadn't also taken that moment to scruff at the top of Dean’s head soothingly. There was a hint of wickedness in Seth’s voice, which didn't really hurt either. “He likes to know he’s going to be making you come one way or the other.”

It helped, a little. Dean was still irritated at having been so misread, but for a moment at least he was able to not let it show. If for no other reason than that making this his hill to die on might ruin the whole night, and he was really aching for Roman, no matter what form or position that happened to take.

“I don't _mind_ ,” he added, in a tone that he had to hope was mollifying but which he strongly suspected came out as faintly desperate. “I mean, if that's what you need to do to get off, you be you. I just want to, you know, put it out there. As it were.”

“It’s not my normal thing,” Roman admitted, slowly, and Seth made a noise like a snort, “And I sort of hoped I’d get to watch a little....”

“Surely the point of this is to try new things,” Dean groused, “I mean, I fuck Seth on a weekly basis.” To punctuate his point, he slid off Roman’s lap, shoved Seth down on the bed next to the bigger man, and pushed their lips together, hearing Seth moan for theatrical effect, because he was nothing if not good at reading the mood of a room.

“But you’ve no idea how much I want to see the two of you together,” Roman purred, voice a low rumble that made Dean shiver against his will, still grumpy that Roman just assumed he was going to get to top. “I bet you’re fucking gorgeous on top of him.”

Seth made a high-pitched noise of want as Dean ground up against him, completely unbidden as Roman’s fingers played around the waistband of his jeans, dipped below and caught his skin with fingernails just the way Dean always liked. He shivered into Seth’s throat, teeth grating against collarbone and listened to the noises Seth made for him, all desperate need and desire. Fuck. He needed, and he didn’t even know which one of them he needed the most.

“I really don’t care who’s fucking who,” Seth said, breaking the litany of moans as he rutted up against Dean, desperate and wanton, “but if someone isn’t fucking me in the next ten minutes, I’m going to let Jimmy and Marek try that thing they’ve been after.”

Roman made a quizzical noise into Dean’s shoulder, and Dean laughed. He leaned sideways a little so he could see both of the men perched on his bed, before toppling sideways with a thump, landing with his head on Roman’s lap and his knees on the floor. He clearly hit harder than he’d thought, as Roman made a noise with more in common with pain than pleasure, and Seth winced.

“Yeah, I didn’t need those,” Roman ground out, before he adjusted Dean’s head a little and carded his fingers through messy hair, getting his hand tangled and having to yank it free. Dean hissed, and couldn’t have told you in that minute whether it was in pain or pleasure, but whatever it was, Roman seemed to like it. “You wanna tell us what we’re doing here, or am I fucking Seth?”

Dean’s head shot up, nearly breaking Roman’s nose as the back of his head collided with Roman’s face, and the big guy lurched backwards, holding his nose.

“Oh, shit,” Dean cursed, scrambling to get up, “do you... ice, or… fuck, I’m such a fucking - “

“Well, apparently you don’t like it when your mystery man wants to fuck me,” Seth gasped out, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “Jesus, you didn’t have to take him out, a simple no would have been fine.”

“Fuck you,” Dean muttered. “Roman, you okay?”

It seemed to take a moment for Roman to be able to form words, and Dean realized with a guilty pang that there was some pretty dark emotion in the large man’s eyes, though he didn’t know him well enough to discern precisely what it was. He reached out a hand to pat awkwardly at Roman’s shoulder, not knowing what else to do.

“I don’t need ice,” Roman eventually managed, and that look in his eyes softened a little, and he rested one of his large hands on Dean’s. “I just -” He stopped again for a moment, his other hand still on his nose, gathering himself again.

“I’m sorry,” Dean added, a little weakly, ignoring the extra scoff from Seth behind him.

Eventually Roman lowered his hand from his nose, and placed it back on the back of Dean’s head. He didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes this time was one that Dean was profoundly familiar with. It was remarkably similar to the look that Seth gave him when he tripped over his own feet in the middle of the floor and then blamed Seth for it. He could feel the blush rising in his cheeks, so he leant forward for another kiss, with almost exaggerated care. It was slow, and careful, but did reassure him at least a little.

“Wasn't kidding,” Seth piped up again, and Dean just knew without even looking at him that his arms were crossed and he was pouting. Seth had a pout that could be sensed all the way across campus, and this one was a masterwork. Marek’s head had probably lifted in expectation already.

“Go on, then, I'm not stopping you,” Dean murmured as he pulled away from Roman, and only the growl he heard escape, unbidden, from the man’s throat made him stop before adding anything else.

A cloud of lust had fallen over Roman’s eyes again, and Dean found himself pushed forward by Roman and pulled in by Seth in what felt like one fluid motion. Their kiss started gentle, a little showy, but as his hand slid down Seth’s spine he heard a whimpering noise that made heat pool deep in his gut and drew him in deeper, rougher, his hips grinding against his roommate eagerly. He pulled away suddenly, hands fumbling to remove Seth’s clothes, and felt the bed shift slightly as Roman obviously moved himself for a better view as Seth was revealed for him.

“Can I, please, Dean?” Seth asked softly, his voice a barely audible purr. A fog seemed to have settled over Dean’s brain, and he didn’t quite understand for a moment what Seth was begging him for. Then, as he gave one last tug to Seth’s stupid skinny jeans and they slipped down over the small man’s hips, he heard the catch of breath beside him, and understood. Seth was still watching him, brown eyes hungry but fixed firmly on his.

Dean nodded slightly, swatting at Seth’s bare thigh, lips pulling into a grin. “Go on, then.”

He expected Roman to move in quickly, possessively, because that was what he would have done in the same situation. To his surprise, instead, Roman didn't move until Dean glanced over at him, head inclining slightly for the second time.

“Don't leave the boy hanging, babe.”

Despite his encouragement to the two of them, Dean expected to have to bite back a twinge of possessiveness seeing the two together. He didn't really expect the sight to fan the flames inside him and make him forget, just for a second, what he was doing with his hands. As Roman pulled away, and he saw the needy look in Seth’s eye, he suddenly remembered. He grabbed at the lubricant and a condom with faintly shaking hands, just as he felt Roman’s lips brush against his earlobe and his eyes flickered shut at the sensation for a moment. Neither of them said anything, but Seth made another whining sound in his throat.

The fingertips of one hand slid up Seth’s thigh softly, teasingly, and Dean grinned wickedly to himself watching Seth’s head tilt backwards in expectation. For a moment he was sorely tempted to string it out longer, to tease Seth more, make him regret threatening to go to Marek and Jimmy instead, but the heat of Roman beside him and the sight of Seth stretched out before him softened that impulse. He slicked his fingers quickly, nudging Seth’s legs apart with his chin, Seth going easy for him, the way he always did, and heard Roman’s sigh of appreciation as all of Seth was on display. He bit back at the shiver of want, tangled in jealousy and heat, to circle Seth’s hole, gently, making the other man arch up and backwards, trying to get Dean where he wanted him.

“Patience,” Dean cooed, tone mocking. “You don’t want Rome here to think of you as a needy slut, do you?”

“How could I,” Roman asked, sliding his hand into Dean’s hair and tugging slightly, adding Dean’s own noise to the sounds Seth couldn’t seem to stop, “when I have you to compare him to?”

The sting of nails on his scalp took the sting out of the words, and Dean took it in the spirit it was meant as he bit gently at Seth’s thigh, and listened to the torrent of sound it pushed out of him. Seth was always so responsive during sex, like every nerve was aflame and just served to push him closer to climax. Dean knew all the tricks to making Seth keen and whine and come his brains out, and if someone, if Roman was going to watch, then he was fucking well going to bring out every single one, and give Seth something to brag about next time he was with Marek and Jimmy.

“Deannnn,” Seth whined, and Dean grinned against the golden line of Seth’s leg. “Get in me already, fuck, please.”

“What was it you said?” Roman asked, voice low and teasing. “Don’t leave the boy hanging? Babe?”

Dean took this all under advisement as he slid a finger into Seth, listened to his breathing and the little noises he made. In every other movement, he was clumsy and awkward, but this? This was something he knew how to do, could make Seth come with his eyes shut, and often had. The show might be for Roman, but everything else was - as it often ended up being - all about Seth. A second finger had him arching up, eyes fluttering shut, and Dean lifted his head to watch as Roman pulled Seth into another greedy kiss, not quite able to stop Seth’s noises of pleasure from echoing in the room, but making a good attempt at muffling them.

“Yeah,” Dean said to himself, crooking his fingers inside Seth and feeling him rock into the sensation, “yeah, that’s fucking nice.” He let Seth fuck himself back on his fingers for a minute, watching as Roman drew back, how dark his eyes were and how they were focused on where Dean’s hand moved between Seth’s legs.

After a few more moments of letting Seth do all the work, Dean ignored how he wanted to surge up and bite at Roman’s spit-slick lips, and went back to work, stretching Seth open carefully, slowly, with a bit more of a show than he would usually have bothered with, taking his time to get up to three fingers. Seth made all the right noises, all the ones that stroked Dean’s ego and made him feel like he was doing a good job; the breathless whines, the low moans, the soft recitations of his name as Seth clawed at the sheets for purchase. When Dean looked up, Roman had one of Seth’s hands between his two big ones, and was cradling it carefully, like it was something precious. Good, he thought, and sucked a bruise into Seth’s thigh, and grinned as he cried out.

“Dean, I fucking…” Seth panted out, and Dean paused, waiting for Seth to find the words he needed. “Fucking need you, please, please….” The rest of what he wanted to say was cut off with another moan as Dean’s fingers skated across his prostate. Dean knew his grin would be vicious, sharp and self-congratulatory, but he looked at Roman anyway, watched as his face settled into something a little darker than want. Yeah. Now he could give Seth what he wanted.

He pulled back, wiping his hand on his jeans and ignoring the way Roman grimaced at him, before he stripped off his shirt and threw it somewhere. He was glad for the closed window leaving the room a little warmer than earlier as he shucked his jeans, no underwear because who the fuck bothered after hooking up? Roman made an appreciative little noise as he kicked them into one of the other piles of dirty clothes, and Dean grinned back as Seth made an impatient noise and shifted his hips restlessly.

Dean’s hands had started shaking again just a little as he set about clumsily ripping open the condom wrapper and rolling it on. Partly because that was the moment where it was just him, again, not him and Seth wrapped up in one another, and that just gave opportunity for him to relapse into being a clumsy idiot, but mostly because he caught the look in Roman’s eye. Clearly the other man had been expecting him to just move straight in and Dean wasn’t quite sure if that was just because he’d been getting into the moment and didn’t expect a disruption or if that was something they’d need to talk about. Roman started to open his mouth, and Dean sighed. Apparently, talking was the answer.

“Can I stick it in him before you give me the fucking third degree?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before he stepped between Seth’s spread legs and pushed in, gently, at odds with his tone. Roman looked caught off guard when Dean looked back at him, but he waited until Dean was all the way in and Seth was gripping Dean’s hip to hold him steady. “Right, anything to say?”

“Uh…,” Roman tried, looking uncomfortable. “I figured you guys were, y’know….”

“Dating?” Seth laughed, then moaned as it jostled Dean inside him. “Fuck no, I’ve got Marek and Jimmy over in Watson for that, Dean’s just - “ He was cut off as Dean rocked out and in with a vicious thrust that made him wail, all words forgotten.

“Convenient,” Dean finished for him, leaning down to bite at Seth’s exposed throat. “Now, any more questions, or do you want to watch him come for us?” Once more, he didn’t bother waiting, and just set himself a pace that made Seth claw at him and yowl like a cat in heat. Some was probably put on, as payback for Roman being such a fucking idiot, but Dean wasn’t going to let that stop his ego being stroked.

“Knew that’d be pretty,” Roman rumbled, leaning in to kiss Seth again, as Dean made him gasp in that particular way he was pretty sure only he knew how to. “Look at him, all far gone for you, look at you.”

Dean wondered how Roman thought he was going to look at himself, there not being a wall of mirrors in most dorm rooms, but he bit back the words and leaned forwards, grasping Roman by the hair and pulling him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss, growling as Roman bit at his lip, hard and vicious, just the way Dean liked it. Someone was making an effort. When he pulled away from Roman, Dean looked down at Seth, hair a frizzy mess and mouth open, panting for him, and couldn’t help thinking how fucking beautiful he was, how good he looked being wrecked on Dean’s cock, with another man watching.

Rather than let the words spill out, he leaned forward and bit at Seth’s collarbone, scraping his teeth over it before giving in and sucking a bruise there, a mark of ownership he had no right to, but in this moment, with Seth here, looking at him like he was some sort of prize, he didn’t care. He hissed as Seth scraped his nails down his back, probably leaving red lines that would show up as dark red blotches the next day, and snarled, upping his pace as he made sure he was hitting Seth’s sweet spot every time. The smaller man howled beneath him and bucked up, making Dean bite off a cry of his own as someone next door hammered on the wall.

He managed just enough coordination to keep up the pace and get a hand on Seth’s dick, vicious, hard strokes that made Seth slam his head back in a way that looked like it hurt, twisting and writhing under Dean, who just kept the rhythm going for as long as he could. Seth came hard, crying out and clawing at Dean’s sides, and that was all it took as Dean followed him over, Seth’s tightening ass like a vice around him, pleasure so intense that for a second it felt like he could barely breathe.

Spent, he flopped backwards onto his pillows and beckoned Seth to come forward for a cuddle. The condom was removed and dropped into the wastepaper bin beside the bed, or possibly next to it. It wasn’t so much that he had forgotten Roman was in the room, and more that he just wasn’t sure he had the energy, with Seth having pulled two incredible orgasms out of him over the course of the night, to care very much. Roman got his show, and he could wait if he wanted anything more, as far as Dean was concerned. Seth curled up beside him, and there was barely enough room for the two of them at the best of times, let alone when Roman was still sitting on the foot of the bed, but they made it work for a glorious moment or two.

Then Roman was leaning over him, filling his world from above, and Dean’s breath hitched just a little bit as the hand settled on his jaw and pulled him up for another deep, longing kiss. Dean sat himself up just a little to reciprocate, an arm snaking around the back of Roman’s head, but everything seemed to be coming at him through a haze again, and his exhaustion meant he was just moving sloppily against him, not quite with it enough to make it as hot as he knew he could.

The hand trailed from his jaw down his throat, then further, nails grazing his collarbone, before finally settling at his apparently tiny waist. When Roman pulled back a little and their eyes met, Dean felt a little something in his stomach and he tilted his head back, purring softly.

“If you’re not too --” Roman began, and Dean shook his head before the man could even finish talking.

“I want you to fuck me,” he managed, though he wasn’t sure if his low tone came out as sexy or just vaguely sleepy. “I just…”

“You’re just fucking boneless,” Roman finished, and there was a wickedness in his tone that brought a soft noise from somewhere in Dean’s throat.

Roman pulled back a little and slipped his shirt and pants off with very little ceremony to it. Dean heard Seth beside him make a sort of mewling noise as Roman’s hard, leaking cock sprang into view, and he reached out to squeeze Seth’s thigh a little, almost comfortingly. He’d almost forgotten that Seth hadn’t seen what Roman was packing before, and given that he’d almost made the same sound and he _had_ , he couldn’t really blame him.

“That’s for you,” Dean murmured to Seth, shifting his position a little and spreading his legs so Roman could kneel between them comfortably. This meant that one leg was dangling off the side of the bed and the other was pressed tightly into Seth, but it would have to do. “He’s like that from your little show.”

Roman made a sound like he wanted to say something to that, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands just busied with the lubricant, and he shuffled into the position left open for him between Dean’s thighs with an enigmatic sort of smile. Before he could do anything, however, Seth dramatically rolled his eyes and shuffled into a sitting position beside Dean’s head, motioning for the two men to move. Dean inched down the bed obediently, and Seth settled himself on Dean’s pillow, idly stroking Dean’s hair as he settled his head onto one of his thighs.

“Proceed,” Seth instructed them and Dean flicked him on the knee irritably.

Now with Seth’s bratty permission obtained, and the three large men arranged in the tiny bed in a way that was at least marginally more comfortable, Roman slid his hand in between Dean’s legs for the first time, stroking a slick finger over his entrance slowly, carefully. When Dean gave him a slight nod, he pushed one finger carefully inside.

It must have been longer than he thought since he’d last taken it, he hazily thought to himself as his back arched without consulting his brain about it and he buried his face in Seth’s thigh to avoid making any sounds that would upset the neighbours more than Seth already had. He felt Roman stop, then, and the man’s other hand patted at his thigh sort of soothingly.

“No, no - you’re good,” he managed to croak out, not even looking up to see if his suspicions about this response were correct. Apparently, it had been, as he felt Roman lean forward to plant a string of kisses across his chest and the finger inside him start to rock back and forth.

One finger became two, just as Seth tugged at his hair a little and Dean couldn’t hold back the fucking _whimper_ that pulled out of him. He was a little afraid of how pleased with himself Roman would look if he opened his eyes, especially after all that back and forth over wanting to top, but he couldn’t help it - he desperately needed to know what Roman looked like from that position.

Not only did Roman look much less smug than he feared, the almost worshipful look in his eyes was actually more unsettling in a weird sort of way. Few people ever looked at Dean that way, from any angle. A part of him wanted to make some kind of sarcastic comment about it, but the crook of Roman’s fingers inside him made his eyes flutter closed again and his hands found Seth’s thighs again eagerly. He wouldn’t have thought himself capable of even thinking about getting hard again after all of that, but Roman was apparently set on drawing heat out of him that he never expected.

As Roman withdrew his fingers, Dean made a quiet noise in his throat. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, himself. His eyes were still closed, awaiting the pressure of Roman’s cock, but they flickered open again when that sensation didn't come as soon as expected.

“Next to the computer,” he grunted softly, waving a hand vaguely in what he hoped was the direction of the condoms. Seth planted a kiss on top of his head, soothingly, it felt like.

If Roman noticed the sticky paper towels in the immediate vicinity, which Seth absolutely should have thrown in the bin, because they were human beings and not animals, he didn't remark on them. Instead, he leaned over Dean again, sucking his lower lip into his mouth with just a slight graze of teeth that probably would have made his knees weak if he wasn't already completely lost.

“You ready?”

Their lips were only a fraction of an inch apart when Roman asked the question and Dean was only able to breathe out a sound he had to hope Roman took as enthusiasm, real syllables being beyond him.

“That means yes,” Seth translated, just a tiny bit cheekily.

Roman leaned forward into another kiss as Dean felt him slowly push his way in. His cock felt fucking enormous and for a second, Dean considered that he might have to ask him to stop, to give him more time. Before he could even decide, however, he felt Roman still above him and pull back just a little. Maybe he sensed the tension in Dean’s smaller frame, or maybe Seth had given him a signal, he wasn't sure.

“Is it -” Roman began, but Dean shook his head to cut him off, finding his voice again.

“Almost. Not quite.”

Dean reached up from Seth’s thigh to cup the back of Roman’s head again, kissing him as firmly as he thought he could manage. He tried to let the rest of his feelings be _felt_ rather than heard; Roman’s hips remained still, but he kissed back in a way that felt almost affectionate.

It wasn't too long before Dean rocked his hips up to indicate he wanted more, and Roman obliged, slowly. Seth was still stroking his hair, alternately sort of petting him and running his nails across Dean’s scalp and, between the two of them, it was sending waves up and down his body like he was hooked up to an outlet. Impatiently, he rocked his hips up a little more and Roman began a series of harder thrusts into him, fingers digging tight into Dean’s hips. Even as exhausted as his body was, even as stimulated as he felt, something in him hungered for more, and he was starting to suspect he knew what it was.

He turned his head to press a kiss into Seth’s thigh, tilting back a little to expose the bite mark on his throat as best as he could. With words feeling beyond him again, that was as good an invitation as he thought he could have offered.

Then it seemed like everything happened at once. Seth pulled his head back a little further by the hair, he felt Roman’s teeth dig into the flesh of his throat, and Roman’s hips shifted and thrust forward, hitting him right…

When Dean was capable of coherent thought again, he realized that Roman was staring at him in what was close to awe.

“Never seen anyone come so pretty,” he rumbled, and Dean would have preened at the words if he wasn't giving serious thought to how long it was going to take him to recover. He probably wouldn't be able to get off again for a week. He groaned as Roman pulled out of him, gently, and presumably got rid of the condom, but Dean wanted to nuzzle Seth’s thigh again more than he wanted to watch that.

His eyes were already starting to snap shut, and he could feel Seth behind him start to slacken. Words. He had to try to find words.

“Outta my bed,” he slurred, pulling himself a little more upright and making grabbing motions with a hand until Roman handed him some paper towels. “I’ve got rules about that.” He swiped at the mess on his stomach ineffectually, before giving up.

Seth made a noise that could almost have been described as fond before he shuffled over Dean’s prone body and flopped onto his own bed, stretching out with a pleased noise.

“Joke’s on you,” he muttered, yawning, “you’re sleeping in the wet spot.”

Dean froze, mid-process of pulling Roman down into the bed with him. The big man half-landed on him anyway, and Dean wriggled out from under him, pushing him to the side, before staggering the six paces to Seth’s bed, slamming a hand into the light switch, and then crawling under the covers with him.

“Mm, comfy,” he managed, sounding smug. He paused. “You might want to turn the pillow over after Seth sat on it, though.” Seth smacked him, hard, on the arm, and Roman made a noise that could have been disgust, or could have been laughter. Dean opened one eye just in time to get hit in the face with his own lube-smeared pillow. He made a frustrated noise and batted it onto the floor, before Seth growled in his ear and swung a leg over him.

“Stay still or you can sleep on the floor,” Seth mumbled, but he sounded affectionate enough that Dean chanced a final wriggle before settling down.

“Your bed is about ninety percent lube,” Roman complained from the other bed, voice carrying across the darkness. “I didn’t make you sleep in a puddle when you were at mine.”

“You know where you live,” Dean sniped back, rather spoiling the effect when he yawned in the middle of the third word. “No one’s making you stay.”

Roman made another of those rumbly noises Dean felt he could get used to, and then the bedsprings creaked as he, presumably, rolled over. Dean felt Seth’s breath hot on the back of his neck, one leg thrown over his thighs and an arm around his waist, and listened to the sound of Roman’s breathing from across the room. Contented, at least for now, he let himself slide into sleep.


End file.
